Four Parties and a Funeral
by gilderoylockfart
Summary: A couple of summers after the war, and Hermione's social calendar is gradually filling up again. Unfortunately. Rated T solely for language. Eventual George/Hermione pairing.
1. Chapter 1

The Burrow was, unexpectedly, the last place Hermione wanted to be right now. The early summer heat was cloying and close, even after she threw wide every window she encountered. The formal graduation robes she was still decked in from yesterday weren't helping at all. In fact, she was pretty sure she had sweat patches, and she knew there was a waterfall to rival Niagara running down her back.

She dumped her suitcases with a sigh and flopped on top of her bed. (Actually it wasn't _her_ bed, per se, but Charlie wasn't going to be using it any time soon) and realised that this summer was going to be the longest she'd ever endured. Her spontaneous gap year when she should have been studying NEWTs was a bit of a pain in the neck, but you know, peace was restored and all that. And because of the downfall of old snake face, she was one of the chosen few 'eighth years' to be offered a place to retake the courses. Neville stayed, and so did her (now close) friend Draco, but Harry and Ron decided to go straight into Auror training after a plea from Shacklebolt, much to Hermione's displeasure.

And that brought her back around to the train of thought she was trying to avoid.

 _Ronald._

She let out a groan and blew one of her sticky curls off her face. Ron was going to be a problem. She hid her face under her hands. He had declared his feelings for Hermione during the Battle of Hogwarts and what followed had been, in a word, awkward. The summer following the battle had them circling around each other, she unsure whether the words spoken in the heat of battle still rang true— and if she _wanted_ them to ring true— and him unsure whether he could ask her for a look at her knickers yet. Even though Ronald Bilius Weasley was a war hero, he was still a teenage boy. (And the whole war thing had seriously inhibited his progress with girls.)

And so a summer passed and nothing was resolved. The two orbited but never communicated and they went their separate ways just friends. Again. And now he was a newly-qualified Auror, and she a newly-qualified, um, _something_ (she had never figured out a career path. Mostly due to a certain dark wizard trying to kill her and her friends every year, but she didn't like to dwell on that) and they were both back in the Burrow. As adults. With lives. And responsibilities. And in that time she realised she didn't fancy Ron a minuscule bit. She just liked red hair on blokes, and he happened to be around in their hermit period. He reminded her of a favourite teddy bear, well loved, and the relationship old and comfortable, but there was no passion, or fire. Or that breathlessness the heroines in her Mills & Boon books seemed to experience when they were in the presence of their beloved. Not that she would admit she owned any Mills & Boon.

Ron had come to her graduation ceremony yesterday evening (although probably mostly to support Ginny) but he had cornered her after the hat toss and just before she got sloshed with Draco on the cheap fizzy wine. He said things like "I've always loved you" and "I've been waiting until you finished school but now we can be together forever!" She let out a quiet yelp when he mentioned marriage, and excused herself to go to the toilet, saying that "everything is a bit overwhelming today Ron, can we talk about this later? Focus on Ginny, she's your little sister. And she got a better mark in Potions than me." And under her breath; "the little bitch". Then she bumped into Draco who was trying to hide eight bottles of Prosecco underneath his graduation robes. The rest, as they say, is history. Or an all-night bender with Flitwick; whichever you prefer.

A knock came at the open bedroom door, and a jet-black head poked around.

"Hermione? Are you in-" a squint. "Are those your robes from yesterday?" Hermione removed her hands from her face.

"Maybe." She grinned. "It's nice to see you completely unattached to Ginny today!" Harry turned an interesting magenta colour, and scratched at the back of his head.

"Well I hadn't seen her for ages. And I was a little drunk. Malfoy kept offering me this nasty wine." He entered the room fully and shoved her legs off the end of the bed, making her sit up.

"I was reaching the limit of how much tongue I was privy to in one day, Harry. Maybe work on keeping it in either mouth next time." She patted him on the shoulder. Harry deepened to violet.

"I was drunk!"

Hermione groaned and hid her face in her hands once more.

"Please, for the love of Merlin, don't talk to me about drunk." Harry nudged her shoulder with his elbow and managed an almost cartoonish eyebrow waggle.

"Anything… _interesting_ happen yesterday my dear straight-laced friend Hermione? Anything AT ALL? Anything including a red-haired friend of ours? Anything including a freckled, red-haired friend-"

"No, Harry. I escaped the wrath of Ron, if that's what you're poorly hinting at. And I think the accuracy of 'straight-laced' went out of the window a couple of years ago."

Harry did the 'fair enough' nod.

"Well considering the way you were dancing with Flitwick last night I suppose you told Ron you didn't want a relationship."

Silence.

"Hermione?" Harry lifted her up so her face was out of her hands. He raised an eyebrow. "You did tell him that, didn't you?" She winced. "Hermione! You need to tell the poor sod!"

She groaned.

"I know! I just-urgh!" She buried her face in the pillow and let out a muffled string of curse words. Feeling better, she sat up again and faced her friend. "He reminds me of an overly excitable puppy and I don't want to kick him." she pouted. Harry attempted to tuck some of her hair behind her left ear, but due to the stubbornness of her curls, he settled for stroking it.

"I know, Mines, but you have to be honest with the bloke. You can't get his hopes up."

She rested her head on his shoulder.

"I really hope Lavender is coming to this graduation party thing tonight because then I can redirect him and soften the blow." She sighed, "well, I hope it will soften the blow."

Harry shrugged.

"It should, she's been pining after him since fifth year, and she's not exactly known for her chastity."

Hermione chuckled.

"Bet you four sickles that they're going to shag at the party." Harry grinned, and stuck his hand out for her to shake.

"You're on."

* * *

Showered and having taken a much needed pepper-up potion, Hermione shakily ventured down into the kitchen of the Burrow, like a newborn lamb in cutoff shorts.

The level of humidity grew exponentially worse the closer she got to the kitchen and her hair was beginning to protest. Grimacing, she cast a cooling charm on herself and revelled in the momentary relief, wiping sweat from literally everywhere, and un-sticking her mane from her back., tying it up in a very unruly topknot. She knew the closer she got to the kitchen, and food, the higher the likelihood of Ronald appearing. And the higher the likelihood of Ronald, the earlier she could get the 'letting him down gently' part, over.

She stepped into the kitchen the exact second the cooling charm wore off. And suddenly, she was hit by a wall of sweat, heat, delightful food aroma, and a Weasley.

"Hermione my dear, looking radiant as always," Fred said as he glided past, eyes fixed on unattended cake.

She chuckled and fanned herself. "Why Mister Weasley, I thank you for your sarcasm."

Fred sent her a roguish wink over his rather large slice of Victoria sponge.

"You're welcome. Honestly, it's good to see you again, Hermione. I was beginning to worry about the level of conversation round here, as I'm stuck with these idiots all the time." He sent her another wink and managed to fit the whole slice into his mouth at once. Hermione wasn't sure whether to be impressed or disgusted. "It was beginning to lower my IQ score" he said, through a mouthful of cake.

"Remind me again why we put up with you, Fred?" Molly Weasley asked from behind him, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. She was holding a wooden spoon. Hermione knew this was a dangerous situation for Fred. Molly had a _weapon._

Fred giggled nervously.

"Because you love me, and I'm your favourite son?"

Molly's eyebrow only moved higher up her forehead.

"And I lost a bet with Lee so he gets my room in the flat and now I'm homeless if I didn't live here?" Fred raised his eyebrows. Hermione looked on bemusedly.

"Well, you could move out if we _idiots_ bother you so much." That tone of voice meant Fred was going to _die._

Fred dropped to his knees. And begged. Bugger the cake.

"Please do not forsake me, Mother! I was merely referring to Percy and Ron, my brothers! Not you, for I am the fruit of your womb, your favourite twin! I am eternally grateful to you for giving me life! I just was complaining about the nonsensical things my other full time resident brothers say! Mother, please forgive my trespasses, as I forgive those who trespass against me!"

Molly Weasley looked less likely to use the spoon on Fred by the second.

"Lead me not into temptation, Mother! Deliver me from evil! Please!"

Molly now looked amused at Fred's antics. He began kissing her feet.

"Hermione dear, welcome back." Molly approached her for a hug and smiled her crinkly smile which always sent the warm fuzzies up Hermione. It was so _motherly_ which seemed somewhat foreign after, well, everything she'd been through.

"Hi Molly. Thank you for agreeing to put me up all summer. Again. Are you sure you don't want any rent from me at all?"

Molly swatted her arm.

"Nonsense! You're family. I won't have you paying rent in this house!"

"I have to pay rent." A sulky voice drifted from the floor.

Molly swivelled around.

"Fred, dear, you run a business which is quickly expanding into pranking empire, ruining the lives of parents and teachers everywhere. Hermione here has just left school and is currently unemployed. Have a bit of sympathy, hmm?"

Fred nodded, albeit begrudgingly.

Molly put her hands on her hips and smiled kindly at him.

"Now why don't you go and show Hermione what you've done to the garden shed?"

Fred brightened at this prospect and jumped up, chattering at a million miles per hour.

"Oh Hermione, it's great, me and George have made it into a little workshop! I could do with your input on a new product actually, whizz-pops, they're supposed to have the person lick them then have whizz bangers go up their nose and explode out their ears, but all the samples I've tested have exploded instantaneously." Hermione's eyes widened, "Anyway, I've put a floo in there because I'm not at the flat all the time any more— curse you Lee— and there's workbenches and fire proofing and the ceiling is purple and the cactus sings Elvis Presley songs—"

"Fred, Fred, slow down. I was actually hoping to talk to Ron first, but I'll go straight down to the shed after, ok?" Hermione had discovered that the best way to address Fred was exactly the same as the best way to address Teddy Lupin. "Get everything ready for me, yeah? And then I'll see what I can do with those whizz-pops."

"Hermione?" A very Ron-sounding voice appeared from the doorway.

Molly, Fred and Hermione turned on their heels.

"Ah! Hello there, Ron, lovely to, uh, see you." Hermione inwardly cringed.

Fred made a vague gesture towards the kitchen door.

"I'll be, um, out there, doing that thing, see you Hermione." He ran to his shed. Hermione watched him gallop over the back garden. It was a very large back garden so Fred's departure was a bit conspicuous.

Molly cleared her throat.

"I'll be slaving over a hot stove if you need me." And she abandoned Hermione in the entryway to the kitchen, face to face with her almost-lover-kind-of-back-in-the-day.

Ron moved so he was directly in front of Hermione.

"You wanted to talk to me?"

She winced and looked up at him.

"Ron? I don't really know the best way to say this." Ron looked confused. Imagine a puppy wondering where the other puppy came from when it looked in a mirror and you'll get a very close representation of Ron's expression at this point in time.

Hermione let out a breath and began a staring contest with his right shoulder.

"Ron, I love you, but not in the same way you love me. I don't want a relationship beyond best friends." She grimaced. "I'm so sorry."

A pause. She was fearing the worst.

"That's alright Mines."

What?

What the hell?

"To be brutally honest, Mines, I haven't really wanted that either, since last year. And I didn't honour my own proposition."

Hermione raised an eyebrow up at him. She also didn't know he knew long words like 'proposition'.

"What?"

"Well," Ron shrugged, "I kinda maybe shagged a couple of other girls while you were in school." Hermione frowned. "No biggy, right? You didn't want me, I don't want you now I know the joys of sex-"

"No, no, no, wait a second here, Ronald Weasley." She pointed a finger in his face. "You're telling me that you asked _me_ out and then while you're waiting for my answer, you bone some other chicks?"

Ron rubbed his chin.

"Well it was a very long time to wait…"

"You said you wanted to get married _yesterday_ Ronald! You should have _waited,_ if I meant _that much_ to you!"

"Hermione, it's really not that big of a thing." He held his palms up. "We don't want to be together, I was just playing up to what I said last summer, yesterday."

" _I cannot believe you Ronald Weasley."_ Hermione hissed. "You couldn't just wait for my answer, nooooooo, you had to go and sleep with other women!"

She squinted at him. "Get out of my sight."

"Hermione, I don't see why this makes any difference, your answer was no anyway!"

She curled her lip.

"If you don't leave this room, I will." She dramatically flung open the kitchen door, almost hitting Molly in the process (who, had gradually crept closer to the argument and had been eavesdropping while peeling potatoes.)

Hermione turned back.

"And don't eat the cake, it's for tonight."

The door slammed behind her.

* * *

Author's Note: hello! this is my first ever foray into fan fiction writing, so I hope you enjoy!

Please read and review, literally any kind of comment or interaction at all is welcomed. You can just put "bogies" in the comment section and I'll be like "YESSSSSSS"

Nice to meet you all :)


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note:

Thank you EVERYBODY for reading and following and favouriting and especially to **Pinup95** and **AnnaCelestine** for reviewing.

Anna- Lee does have a bit of a storyline in this chapter but will mostly be a bigger part in the rest of the story, and Fred is hyper, well, just because he's Fred I think!

This is totally unbeta-d and seems to be another chapter just setting the scene really. So, Enjoy, and on with the show!

* * *

Hermione was _pissed off._

She was hungry, overly sweaty and the boy she was supposed to dump had beat her to it.

She kicked at the overgrown lawn angrily, and the boot-shaped dent she left eased her anger somewhat. So she stamped around in a circle.

Feeling better once she'd ruined Mrs Weasley's landscaping, she sank down cross-legged in the small flattened-down patch of grass she had created. (Because of Primary school, it was almost impossible for her to sit down comfortably without her legs being crossed. Something to do with muscle memory, she reckoned.)

She discovered that as she sat down, the length of the grass reached well over her head. She was camouflaged and well out of view from anywhere further away than about a foot. Perfect. Ron had a penchant for trying to find her and apologise-slash-argue-his-corner whilst she was still angry and trying to calm down by herself. Although her temper flared up at the slightest provocation (read-slightest provocation from Ronald) she calmed down fairly fast and was able to talk about the issue calmly and logically. As long as she was left alone. Which Ron was never patient enough to do, unfortunately.

So he usually got his head bitten off. And made her more angry than she was originally.

Well, she reasoned, her anger _was_ due to Ron. But that wasn't a new occurrence. Actually, it was mostly due to Ron acting before he could think about the consequences. Which _really_ wasn't a new occurrence. But she was still mildly pissed off at him, really. Why would you ask a girl out, nay, tell a girl you loved her, then sleep with multiple slappers?

Her pride had been mortally wounded. And she was not impressed with his ungentlemanly conduct. Hermione narrowed her eyes at the daisy chain she was absent-mindedly stringing together. She expected an apology, preferably with chocolate.

Just then, as she was about to place her daisy crown on her head, a red, gangly, heavy thing hit her.

"Oof." It said, from it's position, diagonally strewn across her torso, "What the bloody hell was—"

"RONALD." She pushed at the body, trying to get him off her "I have nothing left to say to— oh." The body had rolled over. "You're not Ron."

"Hermione?" He rubbed at his knee, "Why are you crouching in my Mum's lawn?"

"George?" She reached out to touch his arm. "Are you alright?" He waved his hand as if to shush her.

"I'm a big boy, Mines, I think I can deal with a little bruise." He raised an eyebrow, in silent question. She rolled her eyes.

"If you must know, I'm hiding from your brother."

"Which one?"

She sighed and leant on him quite heavily. "Ron."

"Ah." George nodded knowingly, "that's the best course of action with him I think. Especially as you're going to be living with him for the next couple of months." He picked up her mangled day chain and tried to replace a couple of the flowers, "he's only tolerable little and often. Like snacking."

Hermione sighed again.

"Well, it's more the fact that I was severely pissed off at him because he asked me out then had the audacity to shag other people before I told him my answer."

George gaped at her. Full on, mouth wide, eyes bulging, fish gape.

"Really?"

"Yep." Hermione said, with an air of tolerance. "To be fair though, I kept him waiting a full year."

George placed the daisy chain back on her head. And leant back on his arms, one of which was behind her, and tilted his head towards the sun.

"He still should have waited though, Mines," he turned his head towards her and squinted one eye open, "if he really loved you." He finished, softly. George didn't know precisely what Hermione's feelings were about his younger brother and so he was ready to pounce with hugs and an offer of ice cream if she started crying.

"Well," Hermione drew out, with a resigned shrug, "he obviously doesn't, and I really don't love him. Not in the romantic sense anyway."

A pause. George scratched his nose and frowned. Hermione joined him in sunbathing.

"So what exactly is the problem here?"

"Well, you know how my pride can get." Hermione chuckled, and tilted her head towards George.

"Easily wounded?" He ventured, teasing.

"Yeah, basically." She stuck her tongue out at him. "It was a dick move though. I can't blame him for not pretending to be in love with me though."

"Mines, excuse me if this is rude, but didn't he ask you out again last night at the graduation thingy?"

Hermione shrugged and lay back on the grass.

"Yeah, apparently he still wanted to give me the option of spilling my potential love for him so he could let me down gently I suppose." George scrunched up his nose.

"I don't even pretend to understand Ron's logic."

Hermione chuckled again.

"Anyway!" George jumped up and dusted off his bare legs. He'd finally got them out that morning, but they were usually shy and hid behind his trouser legs. Because of this, they were embarrassingly pale and actually reflected glare off the sun.

Hermione squinted at his kneecaps.

"Yes?"

"I need to speak to Fred about this new product, so I'll be— actually, you'd be useful with all those brains. Come with me and help us fix these Whizzpop things." He held out a hand to Hermione and helped her up. "Essentially, the idea is to have a lollipop that someone licks and steam and mini little fireworks come out of their ears."

Hermione nodded. "Fred told me about these. He said they blew up in your tests."

George grimaced. "They reduced Dirk the Test Dummy to ashes."

Hermione's eyes lit up.

"Lead the way, soldier!"

* * *

"Hermione you're a genius."

"You know, I think I've been told that once or twice." Honestly, the problem was so easy to fix, she figured it out in under thirty minutes. And put it right in thirty seconds.

George was looking up at her reverently.

Fred was bowing to her.

Clive the Elvis Presley-singing cactus was crooning quietly in the background. For some reason, as Hermione had cast the charm which made the product work, he had sprouted purple flowers. And seemed to be enjoying them.

"Hermione, am I right in thinking you don't have a job this summer?" asked George, musing something over.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "I don't have a job, period."

"Freddie, are you thinking what I'm thinking?" George stared at Hermione. Fred rose from his half crouched worshipping position.

"I do believe I am, dear brother, I do believe I am." He also began staring at Hermione. Hermione was becoming faintly uncomfortable.

George drew himself up to his full height and cleared his throat in an official manner.

"Hermione, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes would be delighted to offer you a place in our development team and any other kind of job that needs covering."

Fred cut in; "Basically, Mines, want to join us for a bit until you figure out what you want to do?"

George frowned and elbowed him in the ribs. "Mate," he hissed, "I was trying to be formal and everything there."

"George," Fred whispered back, "since when are you formal?" George blinked at him, and conceded the point. They turned back to stare at Hermione.

"So Mines," George sheepishly grinned, and scratched the back of his neck, "want to be an honourable Weasley twin?"

Fred beamed. "Except we won't make you dye your hair ginger to fit in. Obviously."

"Obviously." George echoed. Hermione held back a small smile.

"You know what guys, I accept your job offer." Her smile morphed into a smirk. "But don't tell your mother, otherwise I have to pay rent."

Fred protested forcefully. George chuckled and saw she was going to fit in. Actually, speaking of rent…

"Hey, Freddie," George caught his attention from where he was pouting melodramatically. "Can you back out of that bet with Lee, and move back into the flat?" Fred puffed out his chest.

"Why, dear brother of mine, missing me already?" George crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Actually, Fred, it was much quieter and tidier with Lee as my flatmate instead of you." he leant back against the counter. Hermione had become distracted by Clive's flowers.

Fred looked confused. "So why do you want me back? My good looks, wit and charm?" George rolled his eyes.

"No." He sighed. "Do you remember how Lee has been sickeningly lovestruck over the past year? And how he wouldn't tell us who his new boyfriend was until he'd left school?"

Fred nodded and made a continue gesture.

"Well," George swallowed and steeled himself for this next tidbit of information. "Well, his boyfriend finished school yesterday. And moved into Lee's room. And had loud, celebratory 'I missed you' sex with Lee all of last night. And I don't feel comfortable hearing Draco Malfoy's moans in my flat to be honest."

Fred blinked.

Hermione tuned back into the conversation. "Hey, Draco's nice! Well he was once he told his dad to piss off and came out."

"I know, he's probably a really friendly kid, in fact he made me apology coffee this morning, for keeping me up last night, but I don't know if I'll be able to deal with no sleep ever." He rested his forehead on the side of his hand in a sort of cradle.

Hermione gaped at him. "George…"

George looked up. "Yeah?"

"You're a _wizard._ Use a _silencing charm you idiot."_

"Ah. Didn't think about that."

Fred pulled his best puppy dog face. "Does that mean I'm not moving back in?"

George patted his shoulder.

"Yes mate, it means you're staying at the Burrow." George grinned. "And I never have to put up with your dirty boxers in the fruit bowl again." Fred raised an eyebrow and looked warningly at George.

"Never say never, dear brother of mine, never say never."


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey George, do you reckon it would be socially acceptable to turn up in some shorts tonight?" Hermione asked.

George had just apparated into the Burrow from his flat, and had conveniently landed outside of her bedroom door. Just in time to be harassed about outfit choices.

Great.

"Personally, Mines, I wouldn't risk it. I'm wearing a tie." He yelled back. How did she know it was him? He only just arrived. She couldn't have seen him…

He heard a growl through the door. And then some noises which reminded him of heavy-isn objects being thrown. Was she throwing stuff?

"Well, I only have one dress with me. And if that's not appropriate, Molly's just going to have to _deal with it._ "

George coughed nervously. Her tone of voice scared him a little.

"Erm, Hermione? I'm just gonna head downstairs now, so yeah, I'll see you later-" He lifted his foot to take the first step towards the stairs when he felt himself being dragged backwards by his collar.

"No you're not, just come and tell me if I look presentable." She said. He was taken into the lair.

He swivelled around once she let go of him, and coughed. And then felt the air flow back into his lungs. He had never thought about the atmosphere before, but now he was eternally grateful for its existence.

"Bloody hell, Mines, I almost _died,_ wha—woah." He caught sight of her as he was standing up.

Hermione blushed. Was he really that impressed by her appearance? She had gone for the only dress she had, a little lavender number. She didn't realise she looked _nice._ She smiled a little and ducked her head. Compliments never really suited her.

"Granger," he said, looking both impressed and a little shocked, "this room is a pig sty."

Her face dropped. Seriously?

He walked in a circle around her bedroom. There were clothes strewn everywhere, four outfits were hanging over the lampshade. The piece de resistance was a turquoise bra hooked over the handle of a broomstick affixed to the wall. He pointed at it a raised his eyebrows at her.

She shrugged. It was only a bra. She couldn't count the amount of times she'd seen men in their underwear, (not in a sexual way. _Obviously._ She saddened a little at this fact) but they roamed around in their boxers in the dorm rooms, in the common room, in the kitchen. And in the Burrow, it wasn't a Saturday morning without Fred running in and showing her which novelty boxers he was wearing that day.

Hermione sighed. She was well in the sister zone with the Weasley men.

"Seriously, though, do I look ok for this party thing?" She posed, with one hand on the back of her head and one on her hip. George looked her up and down. She pouted very aggressively.

He crossed him arms. And discovered his unexpected discomfort. Hermione was hot now? When did that happen? He stared, wide eyed at the floor. Her little cheekbones and the curves and the _eyes._ He whimpered slightly in realisation. He never really looked at her after Ron took an interest. He nodded. It was probably some time in the last four years then.

He nodded and looked up. Hermione had changed poses whilst he had been having a slight personal crisis (and his mental rolodex of doable women has been adjusted somewhat.)

She now had her back to him and was looking over her shoulder, that stupid pout still in place. Her leg was cocked up on the bed and her hands were on her hips. George shook his head and started laughing a little. She looked ridiculous.

She grinned at him and relaxed back to a relatively normal stance.

"Well?" She asked.

He rolled his eyes and went to reach around her. "You look beautiful, Hermione as usual."

He pushed her out of the door. "Now come on, we have five flights of stairs to get down in 12 minutes, and I swear this is the floor where we have to go up to get down again."

Hermione smirked a bit at that comment. Maybe not sister zoned with _all_ of the Weasley brothers. She wiped off her shoulder.

* * *

"Hey, Hermione?"

"Yes George?"

"How did you know— oh sharp corner here Mione, be careful—that it was me when I apparated in?" He asked from in front of her. They were currently heading down a staircase which had apparently got its architectural design from the letter Z.

"That's easy George," She replied, slightly out of breath, "you make a weird sort of trombone noise when you arrive somewhere."

"Oh."

* * *

The party was in full swing by the time they arrived downstairs. Unfortunately, they had taken a wrong fork in the staircase around the seventh floor and ended up in the new wing for when Teddy stayed over.

"Ah, Hermione, _darling_ , so lovely to see you." Andromeda Tonks greeted her. "And is this your date?" She winked and waggled her eyebrows playfully.

Hermione looked shocked. Seriously, she had only been unpropositioned (if that was a thing) by Ron for roughly four hours, and people were already shoving new red heads into her life? No thank you.

"I'm only joking, darling." Andromeda smirked with a flippant hand gesture. She smoothed her flyaway hair from out of her face. Hermione looked on enviously at the bred in Black elegance, Pureblood society conditioning never left you, she supposed. "Can you just keep an eye on Teddy for me please? I'm dying for a piss."

Or maybe it did.

Hermione blinked at her. "Sure, I can do that." She smiled at Andromeda.

"Thank you darling, I think the bottle of rosé has gone straight through me!" And let out a slight hiccough as she shuffled away.

Hermione elbowed George. "You're helping me with Teddy." She hissed. She had literally no experience of solo child caring so she asked the person who was closest to one.

George pumped the air.

"Yes! Me and Teddy go way back, he comes to the store every weekday after school. He is ace. Came up with the idea for those Whizz-pops you know." He was interrupted by something small and blue which flew at him.

"Uncle George! Uncle George!" Ah. Teddy Lupin had made his adorable entrance.

"Ted the Dread! How's life, my favourite nephew?"

Teddy shrugged. And removed his head from George's shoulder. His hair had grown longer since Hermione had last seen him and his navy curls were now brushing his collar. All in all, he looked like a punk rock cherub.

"Could be better. Aunty Drom keeps telling the governess to give me Latin lessons." He folded his little arms. "I don't want Latin lessons. Uncle Harry says they're pretent-yus"

Hermione laughed. "Uncle Harry is right, Teddy. Do you want me to speak to Aunty Drom for you?"

Teddy nodded his head so vivaciously George had to lean forward so he didn't drop him.

"Hermione, George, can I speak to you two for a second?" A rather frazzled Harry Potter finally managed to make his way over to the couple. He had been attempting to reach them for the past five minutes, but kept getting distracted by Ginny's arse.

He looked on dreamily. Such a beautiful arse.

"Harry? Harry?" Someone was snapping fingers in his face. Oh yes. Right. Hermione. George. Teddy?

"Tedder! Little man, didn't see you there!" He ruffled the navy curls.

"Hello Uncle Harry." Teddy kissed him on the cheek.

"How are the Latin lessons?" Teddy frowned.

"Still happening." He buried his face back in George's shoulder.

Harry looked on in commiseration.

"Anyway, you two," he addressed Hermione and George, "this is a very quick question to ask if you guys would be okay with me proposing to Ginny." There was a beat of silence, then:

"Of course, you daft sod!"

"Why wouldn't you think we wouldn't like it?"

"Go for it!"

"You've been planning this for a _year,_ Harry."

Harry loosened his tie and grinned.

"Dinner is starting in about a minute and I just wanted to check for your blessings, and Hermione, if it was ok to take the limelight off your graduation for a bit."

Hermione hugged him.

"Harry, nobody has congratulated me anyway. I don't care! Be happy." She released him from her death grip and patted her watery eyes. "She'll say yes."

Harry smiled softly at her, and put a hand on her shoulder. He looked her in the eyes.

"Thanks Hermione."

All of a sudden there was a tinking of a spoon on glass.

"Dinner, everyone!" Mrs. Weasley's voice called over the crowd.

George smiled at Harry.

"This is your big moment, mate. If you want us for feedback afterwards, we'll be at the Kiddie table trying to make Ted eat lettuce."

A "yuck!" erupted from George's shoulder, who shot a look of long-suffering at Hermione.

She stifled a giggle. George looked at her strangely.

"Did you mean it when nobody had congratulated you?"

Hermione looked down at her skirt.

"Yeah, but it doesn't really matter, I was expected to graduate anyway and I don't really need the attention, and Gin—" George cut her off.

"Congratulations, Hermione." He smiled at her, sweetly, and his eyes roamed her face. "I'm proud of you."

Hermione suddenly had entirely too much spit in her mouth and swallowed harshly.

Teddy popped his head out from under George's chin.

"And me, Aunty Miney!"

* * *

 **Hi you guys.**

Sorry this has taken so long to upload, A Levels are beginning to kill my happiness.

I'm not too keen on this chapter, it feels more like a filler, but we get George realisation and Teddy, so..

The other half of the party shall be uploaded in due course!

Review- let me know what y'all think!


	4. Chapter 4

There was a small civil war occurring on the kiddie table, population of three. George and Hermione were trying to get Teddy to eat his vegetables, or at least the sweetcorn Teddy, please, and he was having none of it.

Teddy Lupin was saved from the horrors of fibre by his Uncle, Harry. He knew Harry wasn't his real uncle, but he was sort of shared around this family, passed to each member. He didn't grace them all with familial titles, just his favourites. And Harry was one of his favourites. Not his super duper most favourite uncle— that title went to George. With the havoc-wreaking marauder genes and his mum's cheekiness, Teddy was a lot like the elder prankster.

And seeing them plot pranks together was truly terrifying.

For the second time that evening, there was a tinking of spoon against a wine glass, and a very pale Harry Potter stood up.

He cleared his throat. Hermione and George exchanged loaded looks, while Teddy tried to hide green beans underneath his chair cushion.

"Um. Hello." Harry started. "Thank you all for coming today, to celebrate the achievements of four of my greatest friends; one which I never managed to do. And I just want to first, congratulate Neville—" who, after some heckling, stood up and gave a puce wave before returning his behind swiftly to his chair, "Draco—" true to character, he stood up and gave a suave bow, making Lee swoon off his chair next to him, "Hermione," all of the attention was on her for a second and she found herself standing up, leaning on George for support and giving a very lopsided curtsey, Harry grinned at her, "-and my beautiful girlfriend, Ginny, on graduating from Hogwarts!" Ginny just grinned and gave a thumbs-up to the assembled crowd. There was a small cheer for each of the graduates.

"What a few of you know, however, is that I'm kind of hoping for that to change."

Everyone aside from the Weasley clan, Hermione and Teddy, who was now bouncing up and down in his seat (making green bean soup underneath his cushion), looked very confused. That is, until Harry sunk to one knee.

"Will you make me the happiest man alive, Gin, and marry me?"

The previous cheer was absolutely nothing compared to the one when Ginny said "bloody hell yes."

* * *

Hermione and George were hiding in the kitchen, away from the wrath of Teddy Lupin: the devil incarnate when presented with a plate of salad, and, also, three years old. Age and Evil were not mutually exclusive, George decided, while Hermione picked out lettuce from her dangly earring chain.

George grimaced at Hermione, who had accessorised, during dinner, with a salad bowl as a hat, and lettuce leaves as embellishment on her dress, courtesy of Teddy. She grimaced and pulled out a whole cherry tomato from the side of her left breast.

George was somewhat mesmerised.

"Do you think he's still waiting for us to emerge?" She asked him.

"He chased us in here with the vegetable platter, so let me go and check, you stay here." George removed the bowl from her head. She was surprised to find she rather liked this form of protection at the hands of George Weasley. Her inner Independent Woman was shrugging at her in befuddlement.

He smiled at her. "I think you've been through enough at the hands of that toddler." Hermione sagged gratefully into him, and winced as she heard a very tomatoey-sounding squish.

"I'll wash your shirt for you George, I'm sorry."

"What, now?" Hermione looked up at him and he grinned. "I always knew you had a soft spot for old George here but seeing him half naked five hours after turning down his own brother? Not to mention the fact that I'm your boss…"

He sniggered and pulled back from her.

"I have to warn you, Hermione, sleeping above your station won't get you any promotions."

Hermione just head butted his chest.

"For that, I retract my offer. Wash your own shirt, Weasley." He smiled, and started making his way gingerly to the door.

Once he reached the kitchen door, he turned back to her.

"A glass?" He whispered, "I need to see if I can hear him."

"Don't you have any extendable ear things?" She asked, "I thought you were the type of man to keep random pranks in his pockets all the time."

George looked mournfully at her.

"Mum banned them from tonight's dinner. She did a check of me and Fred when he arrived."

Hermione passed him a glass and he pressed it to the door. There was not a single sound. No suspicious metallic clanging of the vegetable platter, no maniacal toddler cackling. It sounded all clear.

He nodded at Hermione.

"I think we're clear. Stay behind me though, Teddy is a good shot with carrot sticks, and they hurt like a bitch when they hit you." Hermione was somewhat distressed by the idea that George had previous experience of this.

No. It was certain.

Teddy Lupin did NOT want to eat his greens.

George eased open the door, slowly, slowly. Hermione at his shoulder with a frying pan, ready to shield off any wayward flying vegetables.

Nothing came hurtling towards them, so they opened the door and breathed a sigh of relief. They relaxed even further when they saw no sign of metal vegetable platters or vegetables themselves.

But Teddy wasn't there either.

"Shit, Mines, we've lost Teddy."

* * *

Fred had bought a date to this Graduation party.

Admittedly, it wasn't the most conventional of dates, but still, he was having a smashing time.

"Clive." He addressed his shirt pocket, "I think you may be the best date I've ever had. You look magnificent by the way, those flowers suit you."

Clive managed to look somewhat coy.

"Fred, Fred, Fred, Fred," George and Hermione rushed up to him. Huh. Looks like they had plants for dates too, although theirs were mostly vegetables, which they were wearing, "we've lost Teddy."

Fred blinked at them.

"Pardon?" He asked. George and Hermione exchanged a look. Hermione looked to be on the verge of tears.

"We lost Teddy, well I lost Teddy because he was supposed to be in my sole care, but he started throwing vegetables at us like a very small trebuchet and we hid, but now he's gone, Fred, and I know how awful and irresponsible that makes me!" She had now fallen off the verge of tears and was lying in a small heap at the bottom.

George gathered her up in his arms and shot a 'help me please, crying lady, I don't know what to do' look at Fred.

"Come on, Mines, it's my fault too." He rested his cheek against her head, and shot an 'oh god what do I do with the crying lady, Fred?' look at his twin.

Fred shrugged at his brother, and joined the cuddle.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, he couldn't have got past the trespassing wards." Hermione and George's heads shot up in a synchronised motion, used only by those who have heard important information or who have seen something potentially creepy out of the corner of their eye. In this case, it was the former.

"The anti-trespassing wards? When did Mum and Dad get those?" George asked.

Fred was a bit disgruntled, he tried to join in the supportive chat and was immediately dislodged. He squinted at them. He had a conspiracy theory.

"Fred?" Hermione pulled him out of his realisation.

"Yeah," Fred scratched the bak of his neck, "after the thingy where you lost your ear, George, Mum went 'I don't want any more bloody Dick Eaters around here—that was her affectionate term for Voldy's followers, by the way— and just put the wards out. They stretch out in a hundred metre radius with the house in the middle."

George looked like he could kiss his brother.

"The marquees are blocking the side entrances to the front garden, so that means Ted must be in the house or the back garden." He said in low volume to Hermione. She looked at Fred.

"Fred, I could kiss you." She said. George looked a tad aggrieved. Fred, however looked scandalised.

"Hermione. I am strictly a one-cactus man." And gestured to his front pocket.

George gently pulled Hermione's elbow round so she was facing him. Yep, Fred has a serious conspiracy theory. He giggled.

"Hermione, you take floors seven to twelve and I'll do the bottom few?" She frowned.

"Are you counting the half floors?" George nodded, she groaned. "I have to do like three more than you!"

"When we've searched the house, meet back down here with results? Freddy, you take the garden."

Fred saluted.

"Yessir."

* * *

Hermione had searched all of her selected floors thrice over (and one she didn't know existed) and there was still no sign of Teddy. She had found three snogging couples, a wedding cake that looked like it had been there for twenty years, and a portrait of a very large, slightly balding man with no hair except for the massive ginger tufts emerging from his nostrils.

Probably some form of Weasley ancestor, she deduced. Or a historical figure famous for his squirrels-up-nose trick.

"Good Day, Madam! How do you do? The Ronald Bilius Weasley at your service." He swept into a deep bow and nearly fell out of the side of his frame.

"Erm hello, Mr Weasley, you haven't seen a small, navy-haired child run past have you?"

Ronald Bilius Senior shook his head wildly.

"No, I'm afraid not, Miss. And please, call me Ron."

Hermione sighed.

"Well, you see, Mr Ronald, I have a friend with the exact same name as you, and I would feel a bit strange calling you the same thing. It would be like you're him, but a future, older version." She caught his expression.

"But only slightly older."

Ron Billy Senior did not look happy.

"I will find this young man, and give him a piece of my mind." He scowled and tutted. "Stealing the family founder's name! Goodness gracious, the attitude on that boy…" He shuffled out of frame.

"Erm, Excuse me sir? I don't think he chose his name…" Hermione tried, but Ron Senior was too involved in his monologue. She shrugged. Well, she did try…

* * *

Hermione and George met under the stairs, next to a couple of old owl cages.

"Any luck?" He asked.

"No, but I may have set a portrait on the hunt for Ron's blood."

"Ah, old Ronald Senior on the floor that only happens twice a day?"

"Maybe?"

"He's a scary man, helped us dream up the portable swamps."

Hermione smirked. She made a mental note to be next to Ron when Ron Sr found him.

"What about you? Seen Ted anywhere?" She asked George. He shook his head. "No, but I haven't seen Fred anywhere, so perhaps he's trying to herd the toddler in?"

Hermione looked at George.

"That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard, George. He's probably been distracted by a tree or something. Come on, let's look outside." And she pulled him, by the hand through the throng of people who always seem to accumulate in the kitchen at parties.

"Hermione?"

"Yes George?"

"Have you taken care of any children before?"

Hermione coloured a little and winced.

"No, was it that obvious I hadn't? I felt completely clueless with Teddy." George was surprised. He thought she was a natural at handling a cheeky toddler. Well, she was a bossy, rule-abiding prefect back in the day, so perhaps taking care of a child was just another facet of that?

George rubbed his chin with the hand that wasn't enclosed in Hermione's.

"Actually, no. I thought you managed Ted quite well."

Hermione snorted and held the back door open for him.

"Until I lost him, you mean?" George noticed she was beating herself up over this mistake. for some inexplicable reason, he wanted, no, needed, to make this woman feel better about herself.

"Hermione? Are you ok?" He looked directly into her eyes as he walked past her through the door. He smiled kindly at her as they were standing in the doorway. "Don't worry, we both lost him." Hermione cracked a small smile, and George grinned in response.

"I just feel, oh never mind George, I think I'm being overly emotional. I'm sorry you had to see this."

"Don't lose hope, he can't be too far." They emerged from the house and into the darkened garden. Most of the party was happening in the marquee tents at either side of the Burrow, one for socialising and buffet, and the other for dancing, where Hermione heard that Lee had already started his DJ set.

The part of the garden where the two emerged from the house however, had a slight bit of lawn, making it easy to get to each tent, but then after the lawn, and Fred's shed, there was a thicket of densely wooded trees.

George blinked at them.

"What's the betting Teddy is in there?"

Hermione set her mouth into a grim line. "Odds on- definite to a strong maybe."

* * *

Hermione had definitely seen that tree stump before. She gathered up her dress and now, unfortunately, ruined heeled sandals, and slumped down on it.

"George!" She moaned. He was following up the rear and was emerging through the greenery at the side of where she was sitting. He looked in a worse state than she did; he had mud all up the calves of his posh trousers and velcro-like burrs stuck entirely from his shoulder to wrist. He looked a bit edgy, like he was about to take part in a haute couture fashion show.

"George, we've been wandering for about an hour! And now not only have we lost Teddy, we've lost ourselves!"

George was about to protest, it wasn't that bad! He got to enjoy the pleasures of Hermione's arse as he 'searched' the area behind her. He did a dirty mental chuckle.

Hermione lay on her back, her head dangling off the other side of the tree stump.

"And I can't walk any further, my feet are lacerated." She turned upside-down puppy-dog eyes on George.

"Piggy back me please?"

"No."

Five minutes later, Hermione was atop George's back, him murmuring his discontent with being 'mounted, like some bloody horse'.

"Hermione," She heard from beneath her, "you do realise that we still have no way out of these woods?"

"You live here! You should know!"

"And," he curled his neck up to look at her. It made a rather worrying creaking sound, "We've searched these woods three times by now and we still haven't found Teddy?"

Hermione sighed.

"So that means Fred's probably got him, George. He can't be here, we've searched literally everywhere."

"I hope so, Mines."

"Now," She settled herself more comfortably on his back, cursing his stupidly pointy shoulder blades as she did so, "which way to get out?"

Just then, they heard a whispered "Lumos." And muffled giggling.

Hermione and George exchanged a look.

There were slurping sounds and a high pitched "Ronald, not here! We're still too close to the party!" Was that… Lavender?

Hermione and George exchanged a grimace.

The Ron and Lavender conjoined mass fell into a tree. And began, um, ahem. Yes. That.

Hermione gave George a sharp nudge, who was frozen and almost close to tears.

"George! Did you hear them?" Hermione said, in a frantic whisper, into George's ear.

"Yes, Mines," He whispered back, "I heard too much, the slurping and the snogging and the weird moans they're currently making-"

"No, you idiot!" She hissed, "Lavender said they were close to the party! We've found a way out!" George brightened at this and surged forward into the greenery next to the shagging couple.

"Excuse us!" He cheerfully, exclaimed. Hermione rolled her eyes. Typical. Just as she was hoping for an inconspicuous exit….

Ron and Lavender froze and stared at them with wide eyes.

"Ever so sorry to interrupt, please don't mind us." Hermione waved a hand, as if to bat them off.

"Please, carry on, we were never even here!" George exclaimed behind him as they trudged past.

Hermione bit her lip and fought to keep her snort of laughter in.

Everything was silent for a while as George fought his way to the edge of the woods. He calmly helped Hermione down onto the lawn.

Hermione looked up to George. George looked at Hermione. And they both bent double with laughter.

"Oh Sweet Merlin!" George gasped after a few minutes, sitting down to try and keep the wee in.

"Did you see their faces?" Hermione wiped her tears off her cheeks. She cleared her throat and set her shoulders. "George, we still need to find Teddy."

George immediately sobered.

"He's got to be in one of the tents. Fred is probably in the food one, well, because he's Fred, so let's check the dancing one."

Hermione was somewhat taken aback by George taking charge, and this must have shown on her face.

"What?" George asked her, brushing his arse off, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Hermione shrugged. "I've never seen you that serious before I suppose."

George sent a straight look at Hermione. "This is my nephew, basically, and tiny prank assistant. I have vested interest to find him."

Hermione saluted. "Lead the way, soldier."

George took one step in the direction of the party tent when he heard a rather plummy "Oy Granger!".

Hermione turned around- it was Draco, holding the evil toddler.

"Do mind taking him off me and Lee? We're headed off now."

Teddy was sleepily passed to Hermione.

"It's lovely to see you, anyway, darling. You must pop by sometime!" Draco kissed Hermione on her cheek.

"How are you feeling after last night?" She asked.

Draco paled.

"This morning was a chore, and I found a couple of polaroids of us with Flitwick?" He looked at her, confusion evident in his grey eyes; "Do you even remember dressing him up?"

George snorted and shook Draco's hand.

"I can stay here if you want tonight mate, give Lee and you the flat to yourselves."

Draco nodded, in gratefulness.

"And thank you for bringing Teddy back," George continued, "we've been looking for him, for just over two hours now."

"No thank you." Draco said, squeezed George in a tight hug and went running off back to the DJ booth. "Lee! LEE!"

George watched him run off.

"I'm going to regret this aren't I?"

Hermione nodded the best she could around the small person. The small person who was curling around her more and more with each movement.

"Ooh." George realised she was uncomfortable. "I'll take him, Mines." Hermione peeled Teddy off her.

"Unca' George," he yawned, "Aunty Mione is more comfy 'dan you."

George looked affronted and Hermione proudly stuck her tongue out at him.

"Come on Tedder," she smirked, "let's get you to bed."

* * *

A/N

Lovely to be back! Gosh it's been a while (my exams are next week ahhhh)

Thank you for your reviews last time, please let me know what you think of this chapter!

It's double the length of the last one and it was a bit harder to write because I wanted the whole party in one chapter haha

Anyway, adios amigos (again)

L x


	5. Chapter 5

Teddy was bloody heavy.

By the seventh floor, George's arms were burning with the weight of the sleeping child, and he also had a sneaking suspicion Teddy was drooling down the back of his shoulder.

Hermione smiled back at the boys from her position above them on the stairs, seeing George try to gently rearrange Teddy in his arms so as not to wake the toddler.

"Almost there now, Weasley." She whispered at him with a wink. George rolled his eyes at her and smirked.

They turned the corner to Teddy's wing and Hermione quietly opened the door for George. She cast a quiet "Lumos," so they could see what they were doing.

"His pyjamas are in the top drawer of that chest over there, Mines." George whispered, setting Teddy down on his massive double bed.

Hermione looked jealously at the bed. It was rather big for a three-year-old. George had placed Teddy at the top of the bed and was unbuttoning his shirt. Teddy's legs didn't even reach half way down! The lucky little sod.

Hermione pulled out a tiny pair of night clothes from the drawer, with cartoon dragons printed all over fabric. The two on the right leg seemed to be having a disagreement and were breathing animated sparks at each other at frequent intervals. She tossed the pyjamas to George and helped him get the groggy Teddy into his night clothes.

"Aunty 'Mione, where's Clarice?" She looked at George questioningly.

"Clarice..?"

"It's his stuffed hippogriff, I don't know where she's got to, actually… She keeps you safe from all the nasty monsters in your wardrobe doesn't she Tedder?" He asked, ruffling Teddy's curls. Teddy sat up in bed.

"Aunty 'Mione, I can't sleep without Clarice! Who's going to protect me?" He was starting to tear up and cling to his comforter. Hermione racked her brains in an attempt to prevent a distressed toddler tantrum.

"Um, I will!"

George and Teddy were momentarily shocked into silence. They stared at her. Teddy's face broke out into a wide grin.

"Now Uncle George is just going to stay with you for a couple of minutes while I get my pyjamas on, and then I'll come back and protect you _all_ night from those nasty monsters in your wardrobe. How does that sound?"

George winked at Teddy.

"Mate, you've gotten lucky! You've got a pretty witch in your bed!" He laughed as Hermione blushed at the compliment and practically sprinted out of Teddy's bedroom.

Five minutes later, as she was jogging down the stairs back to Teddy's landing, She saw George sat at his bedside stroking his forehead. She joined him and leant her head on his shoulder.

"He's dead to the world now, so you can go back to your room if you want, Mines." He whispered. Hermione turned to look at him, and raised an eyebrow incredulously.

"And betray a small child when he wakes up in the morning and finds me gone? Never!" She smiled. "You can head off if you want, though, it's pretty late."

George smiled lazily back at her, "it's going to take all of my energy to climb up to my old room." He sighed, but straightened up slightly, kissing Teddy on the forehead. "Night Teddy."

He turned to Hermione, held her cheek with his unoccupied hand, and kissed her on the forehead too. "Night Hermione." He whispered.

Hermione was a quivering wreck on the inside. But on the outside she just closed her eyes and leant into his palm for a second. She was rather proud of not falling over or saying something nonsensical like "spring wedding?" or "ngguhhh."

She frowned. He did the same to Teddy. It was a platonic display of affection. She found herself quite disappointed with that fact, surprisingly.

She climbed into the swathes of empty space in Teddy's bed and waved goodnight to George over the top of his head. George removed his hand from Teddy's forehead and was suddenly, and immediately grabbed by a tiny hand.

Teddy cracked open one eye. "Unca' George, stay please."

George couldn't refuse an adorable request like that now, could he?

Especially when he could show off his protection skills to a scantily-clad Miss Granger, who was currently looking on in bemusement from the other side of Teddy. (He count to ten very slowly when she came back down in his old quidditch t-shirt and some of Charlie's -probably- old boxers.)

George subtly whacked himself over the head as he was taking off his tie. The tiredness and his dry period were getting to him, that was all. Hopefully.

Anyway, he thought, as he moved down to his shoes it was dangerous falling for a colleague, could you imagine the explosions that could happen if he were distracted by her for even a second?

He froze, eyes wide, and halfway through taking off his shoe, leg in the air. Falling for? He blinked hard. It was just the tiredness. Just the tiredness.

As if to prove his point, he yawned and looked over at the object of his half-awake desire.

"Mines? Do you mind if I just sleep in my boxers and undershirt? I'd usually sleep in trousers but it's too bloody warm."

"A knut in th' swear jar, Unca'." Teddy mumbled, without even opening his eyes. He turned over and snuggled closer into Hermione, who was smirking at George.

"Go for it, I'm practically wearing the same." She whispered.

George finished getting undressed and then cast an extension charm on the bed. There was now enough space to fit him, Hermione and Teddy comfortably, all night long. And maybe a couple of families of giants as well. George was pretty bad at guessing how much he needed when it came to extension charms. And portions of spaghetti.

He slid under the sheets and immediately felt Teddy's hand grasp the hem of his shirt. He heard the toddler let out a contented sigh, and begin softly snoring.

* * *

Hello All!

It's lovely to be back! A Level evilness has finished and I'm finally getting back into the swing of writing again!

(I know this is super duper short but I thought I should offer _something_ up)

Also to the person who commented 'bogies' on my last chapter- I love you.

see you again, hopefully soon!

Lx


	6. Chapter 6

Fred ignored the niggling at the back of his mind, and focused in on the buffet table.

He was sure he needed to be doing something, but in the presence of so many French pastries, he just _couldn't_ put his finger one what it was.

He reasoned to himself that if it was important, he would've remembered, and moved in predatorily to the eclairs.

"Mate!" He heard a voice behind him, and swivelled on his heel, half an eclair stuffed in his mouth.

"Yeth?" he asked, through the dessert. Lee looked him up and down (for that's who it was) and went;

"Why do you have Clive in your front pocket?"

"He'th my date!" Lee slowly nodded.

"Ok." He, being a homosexual man, appreciated that not everybody fancied the conventional partners. He decided to support Fred and Clive in their relationship.

Clive sung a bit of 'Are you Lonesome Tonight?" at Lee, and Fred glared at his shirt pocket.

"Anyway," Lee said, aiming to distract from the tiff that was about to occur in front of him, (cos it would get violent, knowing Fred, and although Clive was in a pot, he had spikes), "me and Draco are headed off home now, and George said he's staying here to give us the place to ourselves."

He moved in closer and stuck his pointer finger four and a half millimetres from the end of Fred's nose.

"And if you come and disturb us, I will see to your funeral myself, okay?" He smiled.

Fred visibly gulped.

"Okay, I won't come home tonight, promise, cross my heart," he did the action, all while staring at Lee's finger, "swear on Clive's life- Ow, Clive what did you prick me for?" He glared down at his shirt pocket for the second time in two minutes.

"Awesome, well, see you at work-" Lee was interrupted by a frantic Molly Weasley.

"Fred, Lee- have you seen Teddy Lupin anywhere? Andromeda is paralytic and I can't find him!"

Fred's eyes widened and he shook his head, guiltily. He _knew_ he was supposed to have been doing something.

Lee put his hands on Molly's shoulders.

"Molly, Draco and I have been with him all night. George and Hermione have just put him to bed in his room just up there." He nodded vaguely in the direction of the Burrow. "He is perfectly safe, and has been all evening." He said all of this slowly and in a low voice. Molly looked appropriately soothed.

"Right, I'll just go and check on them before Andromeda heads home then-"

"No, Mum," Fred interrupted, "it's okay. I'll do it."

Molly and Lee both looked at him.

Fred shrugged, "I was supposed to have been helping them look after Teddy anyway."

Molly was the first to recover, and just nodded her head.

"Right…"

Lee shook his hand, in that matey way that all blokes do.

"I'll probably be gone by the time you come back down, so I'll see you on Monday, Fred."

"See you then."

* * *

Fred decided, as he wheezed his way to the seventh floor, that he might have to lay off the cake for a little while. His lungs were _burning,_ his calves were _burning_ , and he had to abandon Clive a few floors back because he couldn't bear the extra weight as he trekked up the staircase.

Once he arrived to Teddy's room, he leant against the doorjamb and panted for a few minutes. (If asked, Fred would only guess he was incapacitated for 30 seconds. It was, in reality, closer to eight minutes.)

It was because of Fred's tunnel vision, and lack of coherent thought, that he didn't notice the strange sleeping sounds Teddy was making, to start off with. Well, for the first eight minutes. There were Teddy's normal snores; actually cute little snuffles (which were the only endearing thing about a sleepingTeddy. He was nocturnally hyperactive and ended in all sorts of strange contortions come morning.)

But then every so often, a horrific nasal clattering presented itself, much like a tram was passing next door to the house.

Fred frowned. He recognised that noise…

"George for the love of God, _please_ cease your drain impression." Someone hissed.

A pause. Fred could fill in the glare which was probably taking place with his imagination. "Immediately."

A yawn noise. "Sorry 'Mines. It's cos I was sleepin' on my back. 'Scuse me Teddy." There was some rustling of sheets, and finally, all was calm.

Fred counted to fifty before he poked his head around the door frame. And, true to his suspicions, Hermione, George and Teddy were sprawled out on the massive bed someone had obviously inaccurately enlarged.

Fred felt his chin soften as he beheld the touching scene. His eyes grew big and watery. He whispered "ah bless" to himself. Teddy whacked the sleeping George in his sleep and took off to the foot of the bed.

"'Mines, I _said_ I was sorry, no need to hit." George muttered as he turned over. He slid his arm around Hermione's top half, effectively pinning her down in the process.

"S'not me." She mumbled back, but burrowed further into George's chest anyway.

Fred's eyes widened further. Then narrowed into a smirk. Conspiracy theory ventured, and confirmed.

He was pulled from his mental evil laughter by Harry and Ginny falling up the stairs. Fred leaned over the banister.

"Hey guys, come and look at this!" He hissed down to them.

Harry giggled.

Ginny rolled her eyes and hoisted him up further. Honestly. Her boyfri- fiancé- was such a lightweight.

"If I come up there and find it's just another one of your mouldy coffee cups is growing some sort of blue fungus, Fred, I will castrate you myself." Ginny grumbled.

Harry looked comically concerned. "You won't castrate _me_ will you?" he asked, gazing up at Ginny.

"No, you great oaf, I won't."

Fred turned a bit red.

"I am still here…" he reminded the couple.

Ginny managed to wrangle an uncoordinated and self-sabotaging Harry Potter up to the landing. It would've been so much faster if he'd stopped tripping himself up _, Merlin._

"Okay, Freddie, what was it you wanted to show us?" Fred just pointed into the bedroom.

Harry, having been propped up against the wall, looked in and almost fell over due to his drunkenness. He let out a loud "awwwwwwwww!"

Fred smacked him on the shoulder.

"Shut up!" He hissed, "there are people sleeping in there!" Ginny raised her eyebrow at him.

"People?" She asked, "Plural?" Harry nodded. Ginny peered around him and almost fell over for a reason totally different to Harry's.

Teddy's hair, in sleep, had returned back to his sandy auburn colour he inherited from his father. George and Hermione snuggled at the head of the bed.

"Bloody hell." Ginny breathed. "They look like a family."

Just then, the bedroom door behind them opened. Fred, Harry and Ginny turned in almost synchronisation. (Harry was a bit slow on the uptake.)

Ron emerged at the doorway, half naked and dressed solely in orange tartan pyjama bottoms. He yawned.

"D'ya mind keepin' it down a bit? Lavender's sleeping in there." He cocked his head back to the room behind him.

Harry grinned. He _knew_ this would happen. And Hermione owed him four sickles.

"Hey Ron, come and have a gander at this." Ginny pulled him by the hand to have a peek around Teddy's bedroom door.

Ron chuckled.

"No wonder she bloody didn't want to go out with me, she was sleeping with my brother!" He shook his head at George. "The sly fox."

"I don't think they've got _that_ far yet, Ron, Ted's still in there with him." Fred corrected.

Harry, who had been suspiciously silent during this exchange, suddenly piped up; "Where's Clarice?"

All three redheads looked at him in confusion.

"Clarice?" Ron asked.

"You know…" Harry nodded his head a lot. Seeing he wasn't getting any realisation what he was on about, he continued, "Teddy's hippogriff?"

Comprehension dawned on the Weasleys' faces. They all looked around the door again.

"Can't see her…"

"Nope, not in there."

"Didn't we give it to Mum to sew the beak back on?" Ginny wondered.

"We did," Fred nodded, "d'ya reckon that's why George and 'Mines are in there, then?"

"Well," Ginny smirked, "they don't look too uncomfortable do they?" As if to prove her point, Hermione flopped her right arm over George's hip.

Harry gave a dreamy sigh.

"I don't know how we didn't see it earlier…" he trailed off.

"See what earlier, mate?" Ron asked.

"That they're perfect for each other." He sighed again and leant on Ginny. "It's moments like these that make me appreciate the love I have-"

He was cut off by the other two males of the group furiously pounding on his back and shoulders with their fists.

Fred cleared his throat.

"That's enough of that, thank you." Said Ron, with a frown.

Lavender emerged behind them, bleary eyed and bedraggled, pulling Ron's dressing gown tighter around her as she was subjected to surprised stares by Fred, Ginny and Harry. She looked between them.

"What?" She asked, and was immediately shushed.

"There's people sleeping in there." Ginny pointed her thumb over her shoulder.

"People?" Lavender asked, with an intrigued smile, "Plural?"

"Yep." responded Ginny, "See for yourself."

Lavender opened Teddy's bedroom door a crack wider, so she could see around all the Weasleys. (And Harry, although he counted as an honorary Weasley, if she was honest.)

Her face immediately softened and a hand went to her mouth. A quiet "Awwww." slipped out between her fingers.

"They look like a family." She whispered. Ron smiled fondly and placed an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side.

Fred thought he was going to be ill. _Couples._ He should've brought Clive up, at least then he wouldn't have felt so left out.

"Fred!" A voice called softly from the bottom of the stairs. Fred leaned over the banister again. It was his mum.

"Is Teddy okay? You never reported back to me."

Fred smiled in response.

"Teddy's more than okay," he called back down, "But come and have a look at this!"

Mrs. Weasley looked intrigued, picked up her skirts and mounted the stairs. She was rather surprised to see the younger half of her family (and a couple of extras) on the landing outside Teddy's room.

She squinted at Fred. This gang of spectators was Suspicious.

"Fred…." She let out, warningly, and was immediately shushed by five people. Harry, unfortunately couldn't get his lips to worked as well as the others, and sprayed the Weasley matriarch with saliva.

"Be quiet!" Ron hissed.

Fred nodded towards the door. "There's people sleeping in there."

Mrs. Weasley raised her eyebrows.

"People?" She asked, "Plural?"

"Yes." Chorused the assembled crowd.

She grinned.

"Let me see, then!" Lavender duly opened the door all the way to reveal the heartwarming scene before them.

Mrs. Weasley took it all in.

"Bless them." She whispered, while her bottom lip wobbled.

"They look like a family, don't they?" Ginny nodded.

"Why are they sleeping with Teddy anyway?" She wondered.

"The theory is," Ginny began, "is that they couldn't find Clarice."

"Clarice?" Mrs. Weasley asked blankly.

"His stuffed hippogriff you were fixing." Harry supplied.

"Ah yes! Oh gosh, it totally slipped my mind with the party and the-"

"Mum, calm down," Ron said kindly, "I'm sure it's helped more than you know." He grinned.

"Anyway, because of the missing hippogriff, we think they had to stay with Teddy and fell asleep in the process." Fred continued.

Mrs Weasley peered into the bedroom again. She frowned.

"They don't look too uncomfortable, though, do they?" She asked.

Ginny chuckled. "That's precisely what I said!"

Mrs Weasley turned back to the people also in front of the door. She smirked, cheekily.

"Okay then team," she addressed them all, "how are we going to get them together?"

Lavender sighed into Ron. "I love your mother." She whispered.

* * *

 **A/N**

Guess what, guys?

I've written the next three chapters so I'll try and get them up every Wednesday :D

Liv x


	7. Chapter 6 and a half

George's black eye was fading. Finally. He'd only had the inspired idea to put some paste on it that morning, after dealing with looking like he'd been beaten up by the entirety of the Bulgarian Quidditch team twice over for a whole day and a half. Sighing, he turned the shaving mirror over to the magnified side. Ooh, he didn't need that much detail of his face. The bathroom lighting really didn't make him look good. At _all._

He hadn't been subject to Krum's fists, to clarify. It was all the doing of Teddy, who appeared to be dreaming that he was fervently fighting off mermaid-alien-dragon mutants that spat snakes because they wanted to take Clarice.

George was the real-life equivalent of the mermaid-alien-dragon mutant snake-spitter. And he'd suffered for it.

p class="p1"Everyone thought it was hilarious at breakfast, which he was grateful for, as it alleviated any potential awkwardness between him and Hermione. (He'd woken up spooning her-Teddy had missed her left ear by a hair width. Lucky witch.)span class="Apple-converted-space" /spanSo in place of uncomfortable pauses in conversation, he was graced instead with an undignified-and quickly muffled-snort every time she made eye contact with him. He'd take that.

He was enjoying having her in the workshop. She was, as they expected, everything she was known to be. Namely: excellent. And the store was suddenly just so _bloody_ efficient. They had a cupboard now with _extras_ of things. Before, they just filled up the shelves as they went. But now, they had _extras._ George had obviously never before heard of a stockroom.

They were hitting a bit of a slow patch during this week, however. The Indian summer had properly hit, and George couldn't blame people for not wanting to be in a shop where things exploded at regular intervals. He made a mental note to start making weather-appropriate products. He'd seen something in a muggle comic as a kid which he thought would be interesting to try…

He shelved that thought as Lee and Draco walked into the bathroom. Why did they do that. Now George was sandwiched between the sink and the bath. And couldn't turn around. Or move his right arm.

"What?" he asked them in the class="Apple-converted-space" /span/p

"You ready to go mate?" Lee was wearing purple trousers. "The party starts in five minutes."

George raised an eyebrow.

"Lee, it's my sister. If her own party starts at the time she told people it would, I'll eat my hat. She's like Queen of bad timekeeping. Or if not the queen, at least a high-ranking duchess."

"George, you look awful in this lighting. Don't let people see you in it." Said Draco. Cheers Draco.

"Nobody was going to see me in it, you two waltzed into my personal space."

"The door was unlocked."

George shot Draco a flat look. It lost some of its vitriol as a reflection.

"It wasn't. Lovely Lee over there used an alohomora," he shifted his attention to Lee: "rude."

"Lee looked unrepentant, "You've been known to take five hour dumps before. I wasn't risking leaving you or potentially that unsupervised."

Draco had blanched, "five…"

George sighed. And tried to run a hand over his face. His arm was wedged from shoulder to elbow against the shower mount, however, so only succeeded in waggling his forearm about in midair.

He sighed again.

"Look, I'll meet you there alright? A sickle says Harry will be smashed by the time I arrive."

Lee took in a breath.

"It's true. The boy's a lightweight."

* * *

Surprise.


End file.
